Cuddled in my lap and then you say you need your space.
You tell me you're depressed yet there's a smile upon your face.

You push me away and then you tell me that you need me.
You tell me that you're worthless but that isn't the way I see.

Cigarettes, drugs, alcohol. You try your best to get clean.
You say you want a better life and then you question what it all means.

I wish there was a way that I could make you understand
The purpose of it all is how it feels to hold your hand.